


Farewell

by Angelise (angelise7)



Category: due South
Genre: Emotional, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 20:29:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4719401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelise7/pseuds/Angelise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben and Ray are blessed with a miracle but their joy is dimmed by the loss of a cherished loved one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Farewell

“Ben, Stanley? It’s time.”

Mother Vecchio softly calls out our names and Ray crushes my hand the instant he hears her voice.

“Courage, Ray.”

His arms are around my waist and his face is buried against my chest, making his words barely audible and I strain to hear them.

“I can’t do this. It’s too. . .”

I ease Ray away from the shelter of my embrace and gently wipe the tears clinging to his eyelashes. “I know how hard this is for you, but I will be right there beside you. We can do this together, Ray.”

Clinging to my hand as we rise to our feet, Ray stumbles slightly when a muscle spasm causes his left leg to buckle under his weight. I hold him steady until he can regain his balance. We have been sitting for nearly five hours, and it’s no wonder his legs are protesting the prolonged period of inactivity.

“Ray?” 

I kneel beside him and rub my hand up and down his trembling extremity, gently stroke the quivering muscles in his calf. “Do you need me to massage your leg?” I ask, desperate to ease some of my mate’s discomfort. I understand my touch will only assuage the physical pain and not the emotional pain I see reflected in his eyes.

Ray offers me a tight smile of gratitude as he helps me to my feet. “Nah. It’s okay now.” He looks over my shoulder. “Guess we should go.”

“Yes, we should. Prolonging the wait will only make it harder.”

I attempt to walk toward the door where Mother Vecchio awaits us, but Ray suddenly grabs my hand and prevents me from taking the first step. His sorrowful gaze searches my face and I know he can see the anguish I feel deep within my soul.

“Ben, I’m . . .” He pulls me into his arms and once again buries his face against my chest. “I’m so damn selfish, Ben. Thinking only about myself and how bad I’m hurting. I know this is killin’ you, too.”

My arms circle around his lean frame and I don’t even try to hide the tears that silently slip down my cheeks. “This  **is** , indeed, a very difficult time for me. I have suffered the loss of many loved ones in my past, and this particular one hurts me deeply.”

Tear laden kisses travel up and down my throat. “Why is life so unfair?” Ray whispers his question between kisses.

I cradle his head in my hands and pull far enough back so that I can look him in the eyes. There is so much misery reflected in their blue depths that I find I must close mine or else I will not be able to speak. “I don’t have the answer to your question, but I do know that even though, at this moment, we feel that fate has dealt our lives a cruel blow, we must also remember the blessing it has bestowed upon us.”

“But did our blessing have to come with such a high price attached to it? It’s not fair. It’s so fuckin’ not fair.”

Ray’s sudden burst of anger causes him to lash out at me, and I welcome the half-hearted blows that strike my chest. The dull pain is nothing compared to the pain shattering my heart, but it is an acceptable distraction.

“Let it out, my love.”

Ray’s anger quickly exhausts itself, and he pats my chest in apology. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

There is no need for him to explain his actions. I understand his anger for it also burns inside of me. “Ray, Mother Vecchio is waiting for us.”

Ray scrubs at his face with his hands and noisily blows his nose on the handkerchief I hand him. We share a brief kiss before following Mother Vecchio out of the waiting room and into the hallway. Friends and family members crowd the narrow space, and the hushed sounds of grief distresses me far more than I am willing to confess. The Vecchio family is normally loud and boisterous and to see them as they are now drives home the true nature of this tragedy.

Comforting hands reach out for both of us, but Ray shies away from their touch, plastering himself to my side as if he’s trying to crawl inside my skin and hide from those whose only wish is to console him. I offer a nod of apology to those he has offended and can only hope that they will understand his uncharacteristic behavior.

Mother Vecchio stops at the last door and clasps both Ray and I to her, murmuring to us in Italian while hugging the breath out of us. Her tears stain our cheeks as she kisses first myself and then Ray, and I take a step back, offering the two of them a moment of privacy. Ray directs a small appreciative smile in my direction but does not allow me to escape his side. We are in this together, his gaze informs me, and I squeeze his hand to show that I understand.

Familiar arms slip around my shoulders and I turn to find Raymond Vecchio standing behind me. His face is shadowed with grief, and I pull him into an embrace that I hope will communicate the feelings I cannot find the words for.

“It’s okay, Benny. I know it’s what Frannie would have wanted.”

I seek assurance from my friend. “Are you entirely sure about this?” He nods his head, but I feel I need more and I look over at his silently weeping mother. “If you have any misgivings, any reason at all why this . . .”

Mother Vecchio takes my hand and grips it so tight I know my fingers will ache come tomorrow morning. “The decision has been made.” She glares at the priest hovering nearby. “And  **no one** will persuade me otherwise.” The priest opens his mouth to argue, but one look from Mother Vecchio and he wisely keeps his thoughts to himself.

“It shouldn’t be much longer,” she announces to those who have faithfully waited with the rest of us.

Ray moves into my arms, and I hold him close, intertwining our hands where they lay against his lower abdomen. Taking comfort in the way his hair tickles my nose, I nuzzle the back of his neck and whisper softly, “I love you.” He answers by pressing a kiss to our joined hands.

Suddenly he tenses when the door in front of us opens, and I automatically tighten my hold on him.

“You may come in now,” the nurse instructs us. Her gaze encompasses the large number of people standing in the hallway and she adds, “Immediate family only.”

I let a small smile slip free when I hear her last remark. She does not understand that everyone gathered in the hallway  **is** immediate family, from Carletta, Francesca’s hairdresser to Lieutenant Welsh, her boss. If you broke bread with the Vecchio’s, you were family. End of story.

Mother Vecchio halts the progression moving toward the open door. “Stanley and Ben first.”

Taking our hands, she walks with us into the semi-dark room and quietly closes the door. My gaze is immediately drawn to the still form lying on the hospital bed in the middle of the room, and I take no notice of the medical personnel standing in the shadows. 

“Francesca.”

I choke on the name of the woman who shamelessly flirted with me from the day we first met. Even now, I do not understand her fascination, and I must confess there were days when her relentless pursuit of my person drove me to distraction. Her determination to win my heart remained constant through the years, and it finally took an eye-opening glimpse of Ray kissing me breathless to convince her otherwise.

A nearly silent chuckle escapes when I remember the hopeful proposal she offered me on the day I bonded with Ray.

_‘Just ‘cause you like men doesn’t mean you can’t like women, too. Think Ray would be interested in sharing you?’_

It was quite prudent of Francesca to make her plea during one of Ray’s absences. He is quite territorial and would have been extremely vocal with his displeasure.

I look at the man standing nervously beside me, and I can’t help but wonder at the irony of the situation. We did, indeed, end up sharing our love with Francesca but not in the way that she most fervently hoped for.

Ray and I move in one accord to the bedside and gaze down at the petite woman lying there. Her dark hair, which is much longer now, fans across the pillow and I realize it has been styled especially for today. Make-up has been applied and the only thing that deters from Francesca’s beauty is the breathing tube that pulls on the corner of her generous mouth.

“She’s still as pretty as ever, ain’t she, Ben?” Ray tucks a wayward curl back into place, and my heart nearly breaks when he lowers his head and tenderly kisses Francesca’s pale cheek. “Thank you,” he whispers.

“Gentlemen?”            

A nurse approaches and holds out to Ray a tiny bundle wrapped in a pink blanket. My breath catches in my throat as I watch my openly weeping mate accept our daughter into his arms and cradle her against his chest.

“I can’t believe I’m holding her. I can’t believe she’s here.” He raises his eyes to my face and smiles through his tears. “Our daughter, Ben. We’ve got our daughter.”

Gazing in wonder, I carefully stroke the button nose that wrinkles delicately at my touch and laugh softly when a small hand attempts to brush my finger aside. “I have never seen anything so beautiful in my life.”

This is the blessing Fate has given us - a child.

Francesca and Ray’s child.

One year after our bonding ceremony, Ray approached me with the idea of asking Francesca to be the surrogate mother of our child. I was astounded by the concept, but the more I reflected upon it, the more I was delighted with it. Francesca was a dear friend to begin with, and once she had resigned herself to the fact that my heart belonged completely to Ray, she became even more than a friend. She assumed the role of cherished sister and took quite a bit of pride in the way she cared for her  _duet of idiots_ , as she so lovingly referred to us.

Francesca was most enthusiastic about Ray’s proposal, and I’m sure it was because she thought she would be carrying  **my** child inside her body. Sadly enough, it was not to be. Thorough testing proved my sperm to be defective and it fell to Ray to provide the seed for our offspring. I must admit I was incredibly relieved and unbelievably elated with the news. As much as I care for Francesca, I love Ray a thousand times more and to be given the gift of holding  **his** child in my arms and watching that child grow into an adult is a miracle I never dared hoped for.

My musing is interrupted by Mother Vecchio joining us, and I watch her and Ray count all of our daughter’s fingers and toes, assuring themselves that all twenty are present. Once satisfied that she is a flawless angel, they enter into a discussion regarding parental resemblance, and I wisely keep my opinions to myself. Without a doubt, she is a perfect blend of both and will more than likely break many a boy’s heart when she grows older.

A movement out of the corner of my eye distracts me, and I glance over my shoulder, my happiness dimming significantly when I catch sight of the doctor walking toward us.

“Mother Vecchio,” I say softly. “I believe it is time.”

Ray moves closer to me and I enfold my family in my arms as we are joined by those who have waited so patiently in the hallway. Each person is given a moment with Francesca, and soon it is our turn once again. As I gently gather her hand in mine, I cannot help but remember the tragic day that occurred four months ago.

 

_Ray and I were conferring with Lieutenant Welsh about one of our cases when the cry went up. “Gun! Gun!” We instantly went into defensive mode and moved forward to confront the wild-eyed, gun-waving felon. Regrettably, Francesca was unaware of the situation and exited a nearby conference room at the most inopportune moment. She was in the midst of a conversation with Detective Dewey and her normally strident voice and exaggerated arm movements startled the frantic criminal, and he shot her and Dewey without hesitation._

_Leaving those around us to apprehend the gunman, Ray and I immediately rushed to Francesca’s side and were utterly horrified to discover she had been shot in the chest. We did the best we could in rendering first aid, both to her and to Detective Dewey, but the two of them had sustained life-threatening injuries. It soon became apparent that our attempts at saving their lives would prove futile without the appropriate medical attention._

_A team of paramedics arrived as Dewey took his last breath, and after a quick assessment of the dead man, they swiftly turned their attention to Francesca. Her eyes never left mine as they worked tirelessly to save her life, and I was shocked speechless when she reached up and gripped me by the throat._

_“Save the baby, Fraser. Whatever you do, save the baby.”_

_Her fierce gaze turned to Ray and she repeated herself. “Save our baby, Ray. Put me on life-support, whatever. But . . . Save. Our. Baby.”_

_Tears were streaming down our faces as we looked at each other, and it was Ray who had the courage to agree to Francesca’s demands. He tenderly touched her cheek and nodded._ _"_

_"Okay, Frannie. We’ll do as you ask.”_

_“Thank you,” Francesca whispered, and that was the last time we heard her voice or saw her beautiful brown eyes glowing with life._

_Having been witness to her dying wish, the two paramedics immediately began CPR, and within minutes, Francesca’s body was transported to the hospital and connected to life support. Members of the Vecchio family soon came pouring into the waiting room in which we had been seated, and much to our surprise, not one person protested the life-sustaining measures we had instituted on behalf of their beloved Francesca and her baby._

_The medical team cautioned us from the very beginning that the odds of the child surviving were very slim and that the only way to increase its chances was to leave it inside the mother’s womb for as long as possible. Ray and Mother Vecchio were the ones responsible for making the decision to keep Francesca on life-support, and they agreed to it without hesitation._

_The next four months tested our faith and our resolve, not only of Ray and myself but also of the entire Vecchio family. We all prayed for a miracle, pleading with God to return Francesca to us, but when the third and final EEG proved conclusively that she was, indeed, brain dead, our prayers turned toward her unborn child._

_Despite the constraints of our respective jobs, we were both able to visit the hospital on a routine basis, and not one day went by without Ray sharing some aspect of our life with our unborn child. Many an evening I would return from procuring our meal and find Ray sitting on the bed next to Francesca, singing one of his favorite songs or reading from one of his cherished books. I soon joined him in this task, and it wasn’t long before our child had firsthand knowledge of all the classics, from Elvis to Mozart to Shakespeare and Garfield._

_The closer the date of our child’s scheduled birth approached, the more emotionally attached Ray became. He rarely left Francesca’s side during those last visits and often spent hours conversing with her in a hushed voice, sharing with her the plans we had made for our family to be. He also, I noted, maintained some form of contact with Francesca’s body. Whether it was him holding her hand, rubbing her swollen belly or merely resting his head on her shoulder, he never let go of the woman whose body was nourishing our child. It was if he needed for her to know that he was there, upholding the promise he had made to her on the day she was mortally wounded._

 

The soft cry of our daughter returns my wandering thoughts to the moment at hand, and the tears flow freely when I behold the sight before my eyes.

Ray has taken a seat on the bed with Francesca propped up in his arms. Mother Vecchio steps forward, collects our daughter and places her in the arms of her daughter. Ray hugs them both. I move to the side of the bed Ray occupies and cover his hand where it lays on top of Francesca’s. Together we introduce her to the wonderful miracle she has given us today.

“Frannie,” Ray whispers. “I know you’re probably busy checking out all the good-looking boy angels, but before you start chasing them around heaven, me and Ben want you to meet somebody.”

I place Francesca’s hand on our child’s head and lightly brush her manicured fingers through the baby’s dark hair. “Say hello to Grace Francesca Fraser-Kowalski.”

“You did it, Frannie,” Ray continues. “You delivered a healthy baby girl. And yeah, you were right. She’s beautiful, as beautiful as her mother.”

There’s not a dry eye in the room when Ray presses a kiss first to Francesca’s cheek and then to our daughter’s. “Thank you so much for giving us this sweet baby. And I hope you’ll check in on her every now and then, make sure me and Ben are raising her up right.” Ray looks over at me and I realize it’s my turn to verbalize my appreciation.

“Dear Francesca, your friendship has enriched my life from the first day we met, and I cannot thank you enough for the blessing you have given us today. We will endeavor to be the best of fathers to her.” I smile down at Ray, who at the moment is making the most hideous faces at our daughter, not to mention babbling in a language I am not familiar with. “Although knowing Ray, I am almost certain that she will be spoiled to the fullest.”

“Damn straight.” Ray rubs noses with Grace. “What else are daddies for, right?”

I slide my arm around Ray’s shoulders and lower my head so that it rests against his. I gaze in awe at the infant sucking hungrily on Ray’s thumb. “I can assure you this, Francesca. Grace will never want for love. Ray and I, your family, our friends will guarantee the fulfillment of that promise.”

Ray is suddenly overcome with emotion, and he hides his face in the open V of my sweater. “We’ll love her so good,” he murmurs. “And protect her.” My mate shifts emotional gears so swiftly that I am caught by surprise when he lifts his head and directs a fierce look at me. “Nobody, and I mean  **nobody** , will ever hurt this precious angel. You can bet your life on that.”

Before anyone else can speak a word, the doctor who has been a silent witness to our goodbyes clears his throat. “Are we ready?”

I gather Grace into my arms as Ray carefully lowers Francesca back on the bed. He touches her cheek one last time before turning and seeking shelter in my embrace. His tears scald my neck, and mine dampen the short strands of his hair as we both listen to the sounds of the ventilator being turned off, and the steady rhythm of the cardiac monitor slowing down until the last beat becomes a simple hum.

The room is filled with absolute silence as if everyone is holding their breath and praying with all their might for one last miracle. The flip of the monitor’s switch releases the emotional stranglehold upon those present, and our grief is finally given voice.

Realizing that the wailing and sobbing will only add to Ray’s suffering, I guide him outside into the sunlight spilling through the window next to Francesca’s room. We stand there for several minutes, locked in an embrace and holding onto the love we have for each other, for our dearly departed friend, and for the infant cradled tenderly in my arms. Right now our wounded hearts grieve for our loss but, with time, will learn to rejoice in the joy this day has brought us.

“Come, Ray. Let us see if we can take our daughter home.”

Ray takes Grace from me and hugs her to his chest. “Yeah, Ben. Let’s go home and start being a family.”

**Five years later**

“It’s time, sweetheart.”

A most recognizable pout is directed at me. “But Poppy, me and Jessie and Dief are having tea with the Queen. It would be most rude to leave at this moment.”

From the expression on Dief and young Jessie’s faces, they are  **more** than willing to be labeled as rude. “I’m sure her Majesty will forgive you this one time. Come, Grace, Ray is waiting for us.”

I’m not quite sure who vacated the playroom the fastest, but before I could lift Grace into my arms, both Dief and Jessie were gone from sight. “I will fix you a fresh pot of tea when we return home, and you and your father can have tea with the Queen.”

“Daddy’s too messy. Besides, when we get back, it’ll be time for me to take Dief over to visit Molly and the new puppies.” 

A snotty nose is rubbed clean on the sleeve of my jacket, and I make a mental note to teach Grace the importance of using a handkerchief. “Let’s get you dressed in your new coat. It’s still quite cool outside.”

Within minutes, Grace and I are approaching where Ray waits patiently with Dief beside our new SUV. I catch the expression of joy and wonder that lights up his face when our daughter throws herself into his arms and smothers him with kisses. It is an expression I will never tire of seeing.

“Daddy, do you think Jessie will be my boyfriend if I give him one of Molly’s puppies? He doesn’t seem to like me very much, but I bet if I gave him a puppy, he would. Do you think he would, Daddy? I hope so ‘cause I really like him, and I just know he’s the one I’m gonna marry when I get older.”

Ray is making the strangest choking noises as he struggles to buckle our whirlwind of a daughter into her car seat. “You might want to ask Jessie’s mom if it’s okay. She might not want him to have a dog right now.”

“Of course, she will.” Grace reaches across the seat and tickles Dief’s nose. “Puppies are the best and since it’ll be  **me** giving it to Jessie, I just know it’ll be okay. Why wouldn’t Miss Jeannie let Jessie have a puppy, Daddy? Doesn’t she know how im . . . im . . .”

“Important, sweetheart.”

“Important, that’s it! Thank you, Poppy. Doesn’t Miss Jeannie know how  **important** it is for Jessie to have a dog? Doesn’t she know little boys  **need** puppies?”

Taking great interest in the leather seat beneath me, I ignore the pleading look Ray shoots at me. He knows the rules. He works while I stay at home with Grace. I answer the trillion questions our daughter finds to ask during the week while Saturday and Sunday are my days of rest, leaving him responsible for quenching Grace’s thirst for knowledge.

The miles speed by as I listen to Ray explain the ramifications of owning a dog, and I can’t help but smile at the way our daughter argues each and every answer Ray offers her. We soon reach our destination, and I assist Grace out of the SUV while Ray collects the basket of flowers we bought for this occasion.

“I bet Mommy can help me with Miss Jeannie. Her being an angel and all, she could whisper in Miss Jeannie’s ear and tell her how much Jessie needs a puppy. What do you think, Poppy? Can Mommy do that?”

Impish brown eyes stare up at me, and I am struck by how much our daughter resembles Francesca at that very moment. My throat starts to tighten at the memory of our loss, and it’s only the firm grip of Ray’s hand that keeps the tears at bay. Kneeling beside Grace, I crush her to my chest and bury my nose in her riotous curls. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I  **know** that, Poppy. You say it every night when you tuck me in bed.” Grace wiggles free of my hold and races Dief to her mother’s gravesite. She throws herself to the ground, talking a mile a minute and totally unconcerned with how the recently mowed grass will stain her new coat.

Ray slips his arms around my waist and nuzzles my throat, nipping the skin lightly and grinning when he discovers how well he has distracted me from my morose thoughts.

“She is  **definitely** Frannie’s daughter,” he whispers in my ear.

“As she is yours, Ray.”

“Nope, nope. You got it all wrong, Ben.”

I turn and look at the man I will love for all eternity. “And just what error have I committed, oh wise one?”

Laughing, Ray pinches my butt and treats the side of my neck to a wet raspberry. A second later, his gaze turns toward our daughter and he immediately grows somber.

“She’s our daughter, Ben. Not mine, not Frannie’s. She’s  **our** daughter.”

“She is, indeed, Ray. She is, indeed.”

 

The end

**Author's Note:**

> A decade old zine story I wrote under another name. 
> 
> Always . . . thanks for reading!
> 
> [You can follow me and my eclectic tastes on Tumblr!](http://angelise7.tumblr.com/)


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